


And so we go again

by CaptainAdorkable99



Category: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Woods - Fandom, Elyza Lex/ Alicia Clark - Fandom, The 100 (TV), clarke and lexa - Fandom, clexa - Fandom, reincarnation au - Fandom
Genre: F/F, cursing, mentions sex but doesn't go into detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6324517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAdorkable99/pseuds/CaptainAdorkable99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has gone through many names, bodies, careers, and families but she always comes back to one Clarke Griffin. Cursed or blessed with a hundred or more lifetimes to get things right she knows one day it will all be worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And so we go again

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr post I saw. I don't remember who made it but whoever it is thank you for that amazing dose of inspiration. I didn't beta this so notify me of any typos. 
> 
> Link to post:  
> http://homu-satan.tumblr.com/post/141257962547/inspired-by-25-lives-poem-by-tongari-because 
> 
> Thank you for sharing the link in the comments!

~ And it’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes until I find the one where you return to me. ~ Tumblr post

1100’s

The first time I meet you is as a servant, your servant to be exact. Your last one was fired by your lord husband for constantly setting fire to things. Your name is Elizabeth Clarke and you’re married to some obscure lord that I have no care to recall. Your hair is a bright red and your eyes are the vivid blue that I will remember for ages to come.  
It’s the height of the crusades and your husband is one of the lords going off to assist in them. Spouting about the King’s wishes he marches and is gone for months on end. That’s when our friendship starts to form. We have a sort of routine now. I come in to brush and braid your hair while you teach me how to read and write. We bond over nights spent in the hidden corners of the library the candles serving as our witness, reflecting off your hair. It’s three months in to our lessons when we first kiss. It’s soft and barely there but it’s our first out of many firsts so I remember it fondly.  
We start to kiss more often, you inviting me to walk with you almost everywhere. We walk hands brushing until they finally come together deep into the woods that belong to your husband. A husband we often forget exists. He catches us together on the first night that we sleep together. He rages and throws things, screaming about sin. You shout back and he hits you. Something snaps within me and I start hitting him, you drag me off but the damage is done. The guards rush in after hearing the crashes and screams. They see the lord bloody and bruised, then me with split knuckles. They drag me away to the dungeons.  
You visit me the night before the execution eye’s bloodshot, tears streaming down your face. “It went too far” you say rubbing your forearm nervously, you can’t meet my eyes. “Alexandra, I’m so sorry but we shouldn’t have done this, you influenced me and I should have stopped the kiss and acted like a proper young lady.” I frown at those words but understand, you’re wearing a high collared dress but I can still see the bruising. “It’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes until I find the one where you return to me.”  
Those are my last words before your husband has me executed. At the time I didn’t know how right I was. 

1200’s  
The next time I meet you I’m the daughter of an inn keep and you’re the daughter of a blacksmith. Our names have changed once again and you’re Liza Smith, while I’m Ella Roberts. We’ve both seen seven summers and became best friends. We romp around the hills playing with sticks and climbing trees. Your father indulges this behavior by providing us with proper training swords and shields, “You’ll be great dames one day!” He’s chuckle before sending us off to “Storm the castle.” I didn’t know how true his words were at the time.  
I’m noticed by a knight visiting my father’s tavern. He glares and cusses a lot but he’s kind to the townsfolk and to me. We’re older now, and you’ve taken to working at my father’s inn. You like to talk to the people there, and they love talking to you. Your silvery blonde hair and those same blue eyes make you absolutely enchanting. That doesn’t however excuse the actions of a man with long floppy hair who reaches out to fondle you. I react quickly, grabbing the iron poker from the fire and swiping his hand out of the way. The hot sizzling of iron on skin comes before his scream. “You fucking whore!” He roars before drawing his sword and slashing at me. I parry with the iron poker but am driven back nonetheless. He lunges and I sidestep, tripping him head first into the fire. He lands with a scream before his buddies haul him out and start carrying him towards the apothecary.  
The slam of Alistair’s mug breaks the awed silence and is followed by the scraping of his seat as he comes to a stand. He marches up to me eyes squinted. I gulp as he stops, glaring. “You know how to sword fight girl?” I nod, jaws clenched. Suddenly he bursts out laughing causing you to jump nearly dropping the platter in your hands. “Have you considered becoming a dame?” He asks smiling through his scraggly beard. My eyebrows shoot up but he continues his offer, your vigorous nods encourage me to accept.  
It’s been years since we saw each other last. I just delivered the news of Alistair’s death to his lord but it’s a complete lie. He fell in love with a Byzantine girl named Raina and refused to leave. He promised to write under a new name, but write all the same. He rose me up to the rank of Dame and Commander of the army. I come traipsing in helmet clutched in one hand the reins of a horse in another. I stop and push open the tavern door. The tavern that you still work at after having refused to marry. I’m greeted with your arms wrapped around me and your lips on mine. None of the men comment, only sidling past us to get at the ale.  
In this life we grow old and die together, taking over the tavern while your father leaves the blacksmith to a boy named Robert Blake and his sister Marie. My armor hangs as decoration in our room and I recount my adventures throughout the crusades. I die whispering the same lines of poetry in your ear; “And it’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes until I find the one where you return to me.” 

1300’s

We don’t find each other in this life. I’m among Genghis Khan’s remaining dynasty. I take to the life easily but something feels wrong, and it’s not until I’m old and withered that I understand. I was missing you. This time I don’t have anyone to say the words to so I just murmur a delirious “I’ll find you” before taking my last breaths. 

1400’s

You’re married when I meet you. The same guy with the floppy hair is now your husband, his dark eyes ingrained into my mind. They are similar to the eyes of your first husband. I feel bile rise in my throat when he wraps an arm around you protectively, sword held out. We’re in Italy and he’s my target. I was hired by a woman who claimed him a cheater, with my fists clenched I start forward. I disarm him easily dropping him to the floor ready to finish him but your screams stop me. You’re begging for his life to be spared, and I can’t do it. I let him go. Instead I tell you the truth of his infidelity and you say you know. You got over it a long time ago and I watch you walk away with him hand in hand. In this life you’re happy without me. You don’t see me again in that life.

We don’t see each other again for centuries to come. I start to get worried our souls grew apart and I’m the one left with the memories of who we were together. We live short lives through these centuries. I switch genders a couple times, and I help the Spanish conquer Mexico. I see you in passing as your ship docks at what you call Plymouth Rock, arrow notched and ready. I watch your gender change and you’re a soldier killing my people, those same blue eyes flashing. Sometimes we are both men, sometimes we are both women, sometimes we don’t see each other at all, or we do and it’s accompanied with a bullet, or a whip, or a blade. For now our meetings are accompanied by death. 

1800’s

It’s the industrial revolution in London. We’re both in love again and things are as they should be. We’re part of the wealthy class, your husband owns several factories with mine. Their names are Monty and Miller, and they love each other the way we love each other. I have a distaste for technology but you seem to love it, you drag me on train rides across the country a sly smirk on your face. We see Alistair again but now he’s named Avery, and he owns a shipping company with his assistant Morgan. We both think Morgan and Avery are more than just friends, but we don’t tell them that. We stay at each other’s houses with no problem. Our husbands do the same. In this life everything works out and we’re happy. 

1900’s  
It’s World War II and you’re a nurse. I was nearly killed in D-day where they found out I wasn’t in fact a man but a woman soldier from France. I don’t speak a lick of English but I still try to talk to you anyway. It’s under high amounts of morphine that I say I love you. You just smile and tell me to go to sleep. The next time I say it I’m less medicated and we’ve been dating for a good four months. I’ve been contained here to “protect me” since I am a woman and shouldn’t have been fighting to begin with.  
You and I work together in the medical tents from that point forward. Casting furtive looks at each other, brushing hands while picking up bags of blood for transfusions. I love you in this life as much as I did in the last but that doesn’t stop the bomb the Germans drop on us. You’re fatally wounded and I’m left to watch you die in my arms as the other medics rush about to save those that can be saved. Shrapnel is imbedded in your body and tears and leaving trails down my face. The words come out choked and broken but I get them out anyway, the tradition and spell it cast the first time driving the words out. “And it’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes until I find the one where you return to me.” Those are the last words you hear before I’m closing your eyes. This was the first life where I watched you die and I have no intention for a repeat. 

2000’s  
This life is full of ease. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten when you broke my crayon and repaid me with a box of them. We have birthdays and Christmas together, the Easter bunny leaves a trail of eggs through both of our houses always having us meet in the middle where we’d share the bunny. You would fend off the bullies in middle school where braces, glasses, and a rounded face equaled a ton of teasing. You’d calm me after nightmares saying the idiots at school don’t know what they’re talking about and that I’m perfect in every way. What you don’t know is that the nightmares are the memories of our lives spent together flooding in, the latest one being our adventures in WWII. I don’t tell you about these dreams of course, there seems to be an unspoken rule that makes me not tell you.  
High school comes and the first round of puberty does you well. You shoot up so you’re taller than me, your legs look longer and you have all the aspects of everyone’s dream girl. Boys flirt with you left and right leaving me with a monster in my chest and clenched fists. You start dating one of them, the floppy haired boy that has recurred in all of our lives. His best friend looks like Raina from my days as a knight, it makes me wonder where Alistair, or whatever version of him, is. You break up with the floppy haired boy when he gets too possessive and I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this life won’t be one where I watch you be happy without me.  
Junior year ends and I undergo a lot of changes. My cheeks slim leaving prominent cheek bones, and I grow to be about 5’11 three inches taller than your 5’8. I start straightening my hair and exercising. When school starts again all the guys that teased me in the past start hitting on me, I start to see the same glint in your eyes that were in mine. I pay them no mind however and I only have eyes for you. That’s why when homecoming approaches I ask you to be my date. You say yes and I can’t stop smiling for a week. When I pick you up you’re in an electric blue dress to match your eyes and I’m in a tuxedo. You say I look gorgeous as your parents snap pictures. I tell you that you look even better when we have our first kiss at the dance.  
From that point we’re officially together, and everything works out. We excel in our classes and I go to Columbia for law while you go to Dartmouth for medical school. We maintain our relationship through phone calls, Skype, and visits back home on the holidays. A year out of college and you beat me to a proposal. This is the first life where we get married, and it’s not the last. For the next several centuries we go through being college roommates that hate each other, to co-workers at the local coffee shop, to me being CEO of some ridiculous company and you my new assistant. In all of these lives we fall in love again, and again, and again. These are the centuries where I never have to let you go and the words of goodbye come out the easiest. 

No known date: 

When I first see you in this life I want to scream because of course you’d be part of the people that I’m supposed to kill. Of course you are their leader, and of course I love you just as much as I did before. I sit on my throne holding my scowl as you plead for peace. A peace you manage to obtain for our war on the mountain. A peace that is kept through my betrayal, a betrayal that has me wracked with sobs as I worry about you.  
When I see you brought before me again I see hatred in your eyes. This isn’t the first life where you hated me, but it’s the first one that I’m unsure whether I can change that. When you scream “I’ll kill you” I almost believe you. That belief fades in time when you wrap my hand in yours after I swear to never repeat what happened at the mountain, and when your eyes are clouded with concern for me as I fight Roan. The hate turns to love and we end up in bed together whispering promises and so much more to each other. Promises reserved for when we owe nothing to our people anymore. I don’t know what makes me do it but I murmur the same verse I’ve been saying for thousands of years into your ear that night when you are so dazed I don’t think you hear me.  
In this life I am Heda Lexa kom Trikru, but I’m also all of the past “ME’s” that fell in love with you. Maybe that’s why I didn’t think before entering that room, why I didn’t approach with more caution, why I panicked when I heard the gunshots. That’s why I didn’t think twice about rushing to your side and was so shocked when the bullet hit me. I watch you cry over me as the blood spreads across my shirt and I can’t help thinking I jinxed it with those words. I can’t help thinking that we were so close and I had to go fuck it up. 

Elyza Lex

I wake with her green eyes still flashing through my mind. All the memories swirling through my head as I pull myself to my feet. I turn to see the same girl passed out beside me. I found her in the middle of the road unconscious. I dragged her into the passenger seat of my truck before starting the engine and making for home. It’s a small apartment, the front door is blocked off by two dressers and wooden wedges shoved into the crevices. “Watching people sleep is considered creepy you know” she says brow furrowed in annoyance. I chuckle a little and her face scrunches up in irritation. “You sound familiar” She murmurs starting to push herself up to a sitting position. “What’s your name sweetheart” I ask, her eyes that have remained closed for so long finally open where there is a flash of recognition. “Clarke, Alicia Clark” She stutters out. My eyes widen in shock for a second before realizing it was her name, “Do you remember anything?” It’s a double sided question. She nods slightly but the look in her eyes says it’s the meaning I want. That’s all I needed to know before I’m surging forward to wrap her in my arms. “I thought I was going to go through all the bullshit you did where I didn’t remember for the past two thousand or so years!” I say accent thick. She laughs, “I think I set myself up for that with the poetry verse I wrote. And it’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes until I find the one where you return to me.” My grin widens as our eyes meet, “fate is a funny thing isn’t it?” She says eyes half shut and a lazy smile spreading across her face. “And it’s not fate that binds us but how I love the way our souls intertwine which makes me choose you every time” I reply before pulling her in for a kiss. Her eyes roll as we pull back, “Seriously you just had to formulate a response didn’t you?”  
This life is about more than just survival, it’s about remembering who we were together and enjoying who we were now and the eternity to come.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to get the significant events of the centuries right. Tell me if I made a mistake.


End file.
